The Importance of Being a Bachelor Read Free

boyfriend when her previous Facebook status update at ten the night before had read: ‘Angie is . . . . loved up!’ was, thought Russell, a very Angie thing to do and one of the many reasons that he liked having her in his life. Angie was always so random, so haphazard, so frequently lacking in any kind of sense of self-preservation that she was always fun to have around.
    And while Angie’s lesser friends were busy plastering her Facebook page with messages of condolence, Russell was the only one who had bothered to pick up his phone and call her in person. Angie had answered within three rings but her sobbing and gurgling had been so intense that Russell had barely been able to understand a word so in the end he had told her to jump in a taxi and make her way over to his place.
    ‘It’s over between me and Aaron,’ said Angie, obviously struggling to stay in control.
    ‘I know. Is it for real?’
    Angie nodded and put her beer down on the table. ‘It’s as real as it gets. You know how things between me and him have been up and down for a while?’
    Russell nodded.
    ‘Well, this afternoon we had this massive heart-to-heart about where we were going and what we both wanted and all that and I suddenly realised we just weren’t right together. Whatever it is that two people are supposed to have we didn’t have it. I think we were just a bad habit that went on too long.’
    ‘But you two have been together for ages.’
    ‘Four years give or take.’
    ‘I don’t get it,’ said Russell. ‘I mean, I could understand if it was four weeks. After all, that’s pretty much the standard time for things to run their course. But four years? That’s ridiculous. Plus you live together. How are you going to be able to afford your flat on your own? You love that place and let’s not forget how much you loathe living in shared houses. Remember last time you did it? You ended up in a girl fight over stolen yoghurt with the girl who lived across the hall!’
    ‘Great. Thanks, Russ.’ Angie started to cry again. ‘That’s just what I need right now: you telling me that I’m an idiot. Why stop there? I’ve got an iota or two of self confidence left so why don’t you really go to town and point out that I’ve got a couple of spots breaking out?’
    ‘Come on, Ange,’ sighed Russell. ‘You know that’s not what I meant. It’s a bit of a shock, that’s all. Any time that I’ve seen you two together you’ve always seemed pretty OK to me. That’s all I was trying to say. I wasn’t having a go, mate. Honest.’
    ‘OK,’ she said and then put her head on his shoulder and carried on sobbing.
    He felt as if Russell and Angie had been friends forever even though it was actually only six years. They first met when Russell returned to Manchester from a year of post-university travelling and, desperate to pay off his debts, had started working at BlueBar, his elder brother Adam’s bar. Russell was more than a little attracted to her given that she ticked a lot of the boxes on his girlfriend requirements list. First, she liked to talk (Russell had dated enough cute but silent girls in his time whereas Angie could talk the back legs off a donkey), second he could talk to her (Russell had dated enough girls without sufficient personality) and finally she had a sense of humour (when she was on form Angie could make him laugh like no other human being on earth). As for looks, Russell wasn’t too fussed as he had never been into girls who couldn’t walk past a mirror without taking a glance at themselves. No, the kind of girls he liked were the kind that you didn’t really know you liked until you started talking to them. Those were his favourites: the ones you had to actively seek out and discover for yourself. Angie was a perfect example of that type of girl. And he had sought her out for a carefully arranged but casually proposed drink on their day off only to discover over two pints of Stella that she, like all the